


Love In A World Against Us

by Greed Sennen (GreedSennen)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War I, Gun Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Love Confessions, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Male Slash, Minor Injuries, Original Character(s), Randomly Generated First Line., Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 22:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7010920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreedSennen/pseuds/Greed%20Sennen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A confession of love is never easy when you're both men. Even harder when you're in the middle of a war together, running for your lives and betraying all that you signed up for, and other than that you're both victims of circumstance, you know little to nothing about the other.</p><p>But Thomas was stubborn, and a hail of gunfire wasn't going to stop him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love In A World Against Us

**Author's Note:**

> Like Ryoku's Tale, this is spurred on by a really old idea. Except this one actually had chapters early on, and the only reason I haven't posted any chapters for the story is because I lost the first chapter and am too lazy to write it again. I have at least the second chapter and half of the third.
> 
> Anyway, this is set in much later in that story at some point, but it's only a scene, not an actual, chronological point yet. And believe it or not, but the idea came from a randomly generated first line! 
> 
> Thought I'd share regardless. Hope you guys enjoy!

**He wanted to tell him how much he loved him, but** it seemed as though the moment would never come. Half-hearted jokes, a stuttery, half finished phrase, and the world coming down on them, all stopping him from getting out the three little words he was so desperate to say.

 

Gunfire cut off the sound of his voice, drowning out any chance of conversation, even before the words tried to escape his throat. They both ducked behind a crumbling wall of some old ruin, rushed footsteps, silent tongues. The most Liam did was stare at him questioningly, as though trying to piece together those words, missed so many times.

 

But he did not know, and though the man had saved his life, Thomas would never be able to express his gratitude, nor the words he wanted to express in every way he could. 

 

But he was afraid, so very afraid, of that one little question that everything would count on. Would Liam love him back, even after Thomas had dragged him into this? Even when they were both men?

 

Cassandra told him that she hoped he had found what he wanted.  Now, Thomas was sure she would slap him, for though he had finally found it in this forsaken war, he couldn’t get the words out, even when they were alone, the world against the two of them just for knowing things they shouldn’t.

 

Liam was completely unaware of this inner conflict, more aware of the one going on around them. Bullets peppered their hiding place, missing their faces by mere inches and making them both deaf to the noise. Liam, with an intense look in his ocean blue gaze, gave Thomas one last glance before lifting his gun, firing back into the ruin. Their attacker went down with a scream, and the rain of fire guttered and lessened.

 

Thomas shook himself out of his reverie, ducking out of cover for a bare breadth of a second, his own gun ready, and felt a searing, sudden pain in his shoulder. He cried out, even as his grip tightened on his gun. He fired, and with a yell that echoed his gun, the other attacker dropped, dead. 

 

Thomas’ vision blurred with pain, and next thing he knew, he was suddenly pulled back by sun-touched hands, yanked into the shelter of the wall roughly. He yelped again, and Liam muttered an apology, followed by curses under his breath. “Bloody hell, Thomas. Go and get yourself shot again, why don’t you?”

 

Thomas couldn’t help it. Even in pain, with his back against Liam’s, the Irishman found himself laughing. 

 

Liam frowned at him, even as he pressed his hands to the wound in Thomas’ shoulder to slow the blood. “Keep that up and you’ll bleed out, idiot.” He snapped, though there was more worry in his tone than anger.

 

Thomas eventually stopped laughing, but instead found himself smiling at the blonde, green gaze full of mirth and a little pain behind that, too. “Liam.”

 

“What?” Liam asked the raven-haired Irishman, sounding a little irritated with his friend’s inappropriate and sudden amusement.

 

Thomas continued on, unfazed by his friend’s frustration with him. “Liam Alexander.”

 

“I heard you, Thomas Sullivan. What?”

 

“I love you.”

 

Liam blinked. Once, twice. His blue eyes were wide and yet somehow unreadable. Almost a full thirty seconds passed, and Thomas’ smile faltered. Had he said the wrong thing? Would Liam reject him?

 

Finally, the blonde spoke. When he did, his mouth sounded dry and every word was careful and measured. “You barely know me at all. All I have done is save your life several times.”

 

Thomas was serious. There was a stubborn look in his green eyes, because he certainly wasn't giving up now. “I know enough.”

 

“I’m not only British, but you don’t know what side I’m on.” Liam added.

 

“Your own, of course. I don’t see you wearin’ a uniform. And I’m the same, now, whether I wanted it or not.”

 

Liam let out a long, suffering sigh. The kind he usually made when Thomas was being particularly stubborn. The wound in Thomas’ shoulder was shallow, and the bleeding had lessened, so Liam could afford to pay less attention to it. “If that’s really how you feel-”

 

“It is.” Thomas said, with absolute conviction.

 

“-than I guess I can say it took you long enough.” 

  
  



End file.
